Saving Me

Chapter 6: You're Different From The Rest

Chapter 6
You're Different From The Rest

There really wasn't much to do in the little abandoned house. No working television, no cards or board games in the closet, no internet. Cole had got me a cell phone but I'd left it in his car that night. I had no use for it anymore anyway, all my contacts were his family and friends, and I never had any social media because it's stupid. I had an Instagram account for a bit and it was full of mean comments, half-naked people, and food. I'm sorry, but I couldn't care less about what your boyfriend made you for dinner or how cute you look with your fake tan in your new bikini.

Do you have a cell phone?

The words were almost out of my mouth before I realized it was irrelevant whether he had one or not. Plus, knowing Michael the little bit I did, I knew he'd turn the simple question asked out of innocent curiosity into an attempt to get his number or something. Which I wouldn't want.

"I'm bored," I said without thinking first this time, then felt dumb. What did he care if I wasn't enjoying myself sitting on yet another coach in the living room?

"Want to exchange questions again?" Michael asked from a La-Z-Boy.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because you'll ask personal questions I don't want to answer."

"Swear I won't." He raised his right hand like that would prevent him from lying.

Rolling my eyes, I said, "You don't need to know anything, personal or not, about me. We're not going to be acquainted long."

"But don't you want to know about me?"

"Again, no."

The hurt in his blue eyes was more obvious than he probably hoped it was, and for a second I felt bad. Then that second turned into a few more seconds, so I sighed. "Do you have a cell phone?"

With a single blink the hurt turned to mischief. "Why? Are you trying to get my number, Angel?"

What did I tell you.

"No, Demon, I'm not. I don't even have a phone anymore."

He didn't push for why, and I was thankful.

"Yeah, I do. Stole it off some guy at a Metallica concert." There was no shame in his voice, but no pride, either. Just like stealing phones at concerts was how you obtained one. I guess if you come from Hell, it is.

"Do you listen to Metallica?"

"I couldn't even tell you what kind of music they play," I admitted.

"Not music angels would listen to, I bet. It was a silly question. But now I get to show you a really awesome band." He took his stolen phone out of the pocket of his jeans.

I opened my mouth to protest, then thought I really had no reason to argue. Music was enjoyable, and it was better than sitting here answering questions about myself.

Michael got up from the big chair and sat down beside me on the couch that I had claimed as my territory.

"If you know that it's not the kind of music angels listen to, why are you showing me?"

I expected some smart ass answer, but he was serious when he looked at me, blue eyes locking on brown. "You're the only person from above that I've met, Brianne. But I can tell you're different from the rest."

"Why? Because I dated a human? That's not something to be proud of."

"I didn't know you dated a human."